


I'm Totally Into Anatomy

by imagining_supernatural



Series: Life Changes (Hopefully For The Better) [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Female Character, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Smut, Lots of drinking, Smut, bisexual reader, there's pretty much a bit of everything in here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-07-10 10:52:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15947867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagining_supernatural/pseuds/imagining_supernatural
Summary: Life changes, which is such bullshit. But sometimes it changes for the better. So anyway, this is the story of how I got over my crush on my roommate by fucking her boyfriend’s roommate who also couldn’t stop himself from checking out her ass… But even the best laid plans can go awry when those pesky little emotions start creeping in.





	1. I'm Totally Into Anatomy

          Human bodies have bones, few people would argue that. But when I woke up that morning? Well, it sure felt like my bones had liquified and settled into piles of well-satiated sludge. My room was lit up with a soft glow from the string of white lights I hung up, meaning I hadn’t gotten around to unplugging them last night. It definitely hadn’t been a top priority, and the bare chest I was laying on reminded me of the reason why.

          Waking up next to Bucky was becoming familiar and expected. However, what was  _not_  familiar was the absence of his arm that was usually curled around me, since he was an extreme cuddler. I’m talking gold medalist cuddler, if that was an Olympic sport.

          It took a moment of silent pep talks to convince myself to finally open my eyes, and even longer to convince my eyes to stay open for more than a few seconds. Of course, that was nothing compared to the effort it took to convince my neck to move enough to look up and see where his arm was. The effort was well rewarded and I couldn’t help the giggles at the sight that greeted me. My laughter, combined with my vain attempt to control myself in the form of pressing my forehead to Bucky’s chest woke him up

          “Wha’s goin’ on?” He mumbled, trying to shift. My laughter only grew when he froze, realizing that he couldn’t move his right arm more than a few inches, courtesy of the handcuff still anchoring his right write to my headboard. “Fucking shit.”

          “Hold on, Bucky,” I somehow managed to wheeze out. “I’ll find the key.”

          The small grin toying with his lips was at odds with his groan of frustration. It took a few more giggles and some more mental pep talks before I managed to shift enough to start the journey of reaching over his body to the side table where the key was.  _God_ , moving had been a mistake. After everything we did yesterday, my muscles aggressively did  _not_  want to move and were screaming at me to stop. Bucky’s left arm tightened around my shoulders when I grunted and I could see concern written in his eyes.

          “So fucking sore,” I reassured him with a smile to let him know that he hadn’t hurt me or anything. I finally managed to move until I was on top of him, far enough to reach the table and the key.

          My words had that self-assured smirk growing on his face and he relaxed back onto the pillows. “Too sore to move, still cuffed… Damn, I’m good at this.”

          “Careful, Barnes. I might just not let you out of those cuffs if you keep being a cocky bastard.”

          “You say that like it’s a bad thing, doll.” The mischievous gleam in his eyes didn’t give me enough time to prepare for the cool metal of his prosthetic arm sneaking under the covers to pinch my ass, and the squeak that escaped my lips and jump of my muscles in response just fed the fire of his smirk. “I wouldn’t say no to you keeping me here all day.”

          “Well, my body is saying no. I need a breather.”

          As a testament to my words, I kept fumbling with the key in my attempt to free Bucky from the cuffs. Man, I was worn out. The simple task of unlocking some handcuffs was almost too much, and Bucky’s eyes stayed locked on my face. Each second that passed made his smile grow.

          “Shut up,” I mumbled. “This is your fault, you know. You’re the one who asked me to call in sick to work and didn’t give me a moment’s rest for the rest of the day.”

          “And I’m the one who gave you, how many orgasms was it again?”

          “Shut up.” The handcuffs finally fell away and he stretched out his arm in relief before wrapping it around me and rolling over until I was firmly tucked into his side. When we started fucking a few months ago, I hadn’t expected him to stay the whole night, much less cuddle all night long. Who knew that Bucky Barnes, the badass, cocky, war-hardened son of a bitch was the cuddliest little fucker I’d ever met?

          Speaking of the sides of him people rarely saw… I pressed closer to him and spoke up a few minutes later. “What happened yesterday?”

          His chest under my head rose and fell with his deep sigh. “Just… I don’t know. It was just shitty.”

          Someone braver than I might have pressed the issue. But what Bucky and I had was… complicated. But simple. Simply complicated.

          It started out simple. See, I had this roommate my freshman year of college, Natasha. I was halfway in love with her. Massive crush. Too shy and cowardly to do anything about it, though. And a few months later, she got a boyfriend, Steve. So, there went my chances.

          Then she dragged me to a party and I met Steve’s roommate, Bucky. It didn’t take too long for me to realize that he was crushing on Nat too. Honestly though, who wouldn’t crush on her?

          It wasn’t until I found my own place, a cheap studio apartment, and Natasha still dragged me to a party that I was  _just_  tipsy enough that when I caught Bucky checking out Nat’s ass, I made an offhanded joke about the two of us fucking around with each other to get our minds off of the unavailable redhead. He laughed it off, but a week later he called and I woke up with him in my bed the next morning.

          That was six months ago. When watching his roommate and Nat around his apartment got to be too much, he would find his way into my bed with our clothes thrown all about my apartment. Then he would call when he had a bad day, even if it wasn’t related to Nat. It was always just sex, but somehow, the arrangement worked.

          See, I usually couldn’t do casual sex. I was too shy to initiate that kind of conversation, usually. And I needed something  _more_. I needed some sort of connection. I suppose Bucky’s penchant for cuddling made up for any emotional connection I usually needed. Sex with him was fun. Still is. Usually alcohol-fueled conversations ended with regret, but that conversation that started this whole thing was something that I definitely did  _not_  regret.

          This no-strings-attached thing was pretty great. And a month ago, I would have said that I was sticking to the  _no-emotions_  part of it too. He’s a friend. Nothing more.

          Well, he is  _still_  a friend.

          Nothing more.

          But there are definitely some emotions sneaking in. And I’m pretty good at ignoring them, for the most part. Every once in a while, though, they slipped through like they did that morning and I’d ask him a personal question, like what shitty thing prompted him to slip between my sheets. Though the fact that he came to me when he was having a shitty day had to mean something, right? I’m the one he came to for comfort.

          That meant something.

          Still, though, we rarely talked about anything deeper than philosophical discussions on why the Chinese place on Eighth had better eggrolls than the takeout across town.

          What a long-winded way to say that it wasn’t a surprise that he didn’t answer my question.

          “You coming to Steve’s party tonight?” He asked after a few more minutes of comfortable silence.

          “I doubt I’ll be able to walk by then, so no.”

          He chuckled. “You’re welcome for that, by the way. But seriously, you coming?”

          “Probably not.” Parties weren’t my cup of tea. That’s why I only ever went when one of my friends dragged me to them. If I was going to be around a crowd of strangers, there better be live music and a hell of a light show.

          “Hey, if I have to watch Nat and Steve sucking face all night long, then you—”

          “That’s not it,” I cut him off. “I… well I’m pretty sure I’m over her. I just don’t feel like being around people today.”

          “Or you just don’t feel like losing beer pong to me again.”

          “That game was fucking rigged.”

          “You were just drunk.”

          “Fucking. Rigged.”

          “Sore loser.”

          “Just plain sore.”

          The tightening of his muscles was all the warning I had before he had me flat on my back, his face barely a few inches above mine with a devilish grin on his face. “You know, the best cure for sore muscles is to use them again.”

          “Bucky,” I warned weakly, but dammit, I couldn’t resist that damn grin and sparkle in his eyes.

          Then he had to go and lower his grin to my neck, peppering kisses along my bare shoulder and down my chest, stopping at my stomach to look up at me. “How about a wager, doll?”

          “For what?”

          “The party tonight. If I can make you come in less than five minutes right now, you have to come to the party tonight.”

          Don’t get me wrong, Bucky’s mouth was a thing of wonder. But I’d barely woken up after  _hours_  of fucking him yesterday and I was  _exhausted_. Even he couldn’t be  _that_  talented. “And when you can’t, I get to stay home  _and_  you have to buy me pizza before you leave.”

          “I’ll buy you pizza on the way to the party tonight, doll,” he said with a wink just before disappearing under the sheets.


	2. Sometimes You Gotta Make A Bet To Get Drunk. You Just Gotta.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sure, I lost the bet. Sure, I had to go to the stupid party. So really, it’s all Bucky’s fault that I was in that exactly place and circumstance that led me to the horrible realization that made me make another bet just so I could get drunk and forget that realization he made me make. (Confusing summary? Just read the story. It’s not that confusing.)

          “How long do I have to stay?” I asked, standing outside of Bucky and Steve’s house later that night. I mentioned that Bucky’s mouth could work wonders, didn’t I?

          He wrapped his arm around my waist and propelled me towards the front porch. “You’ll have a good time.”

          “I’ll have a  _terrible_  time and blame it all on you.”

          And he just ignored my comment as he dragged me into the house and through the crowd until we were at the shelves in the living room that were affectionately referred to as their  _bar_. I was aware that he was using his body to shield me from the crowd while he reached around me to grab a bottle of tequila. He knew that I usually took a few minutes to get used to being around so many people, and I tried not to let this small gesture go straight to my heart.

          “Limes?” Shooting tequila without limes was just asking to throw up later. Bucky made fun of me for it, but the aftertaste of tequila without the sour citrus was probably in my top three  _worst tastes_. And, after the first time, I noticed that there were always limes in his house when I was dragged to a party here.

          While he reached for a lime from a bowl on the other end of the bar and pulled out a knife from wherever the hell he kept his knife, I found the salt and pulled it closer, completing the trifecta.

          “Hey, Y/N. How about we make a wager out of these shots?”

          Considering his last wager ended up with me at this party, I wasn’t too keen to enter into another.

          As if he could sense my hesitance, he took another step closer until his chest was flat against my back and his lips were hot at my ear. “Or, I guess it’s more like a dare than a wager.”

          Fuck him.

          He knew I was a sucker for dares. It didn’t even have to be a formal dare. I’d gotten caught up in enough non-dares that started out as a casual mention in conversation. Shit like, “I wonder if anyone’s ever climbed to the top of that tree,” and someone replying, “I bet no one has.” And it hadn’t been a dare directed at me, or even a dare at all, but I still ended up climbing to the top of that damn tree.

          So I took a deep breath and turned around, noting that he immediately crowded back into my space, leaving no room between our bodies. “What kind of dare?”

          “Body shots.”

          “Here?” I looked around, seeing the overwhelming amount of sobriety in the room. No one was even drunk yet. Whatever spectacle Bucky was sure to turn these body shots into, everyone would be able to see and everyone would remember.

          I hated attention. It made me so uncomfortable. And Bucky tended to draw attention wherever he went. Whatever we had going on between the two of us had stayed out of the spotlight so far. It stayed in my small apartment. As soon as we left my parking lot, we were back to being just friends.

          And now he wanted to do body shots?

          “Yeah. Unless you’re too embarrassed.”

          Taunting. That asshole. “Fuck you.”

          “Here?” He asked with fake shock, glancing around like I had just moments before. Then his eyes landed back on mine and the excitement in them buoyed my confidence. With a rueful headshake, I pulled my hair over one shoulder, baring my neck for him and his eyes sparkled even more. “Here’s your lime, doll.”

          “Don’t make me regret this.”

          “I’m gonna have you begging for more.”

          “Cocky son of a bitch.”

          My eye roll was lost to him as he leaned forward and licked a stripe up my neck, pressing a quick kiss behind my ear before reaching for the salt.

          While he poured some salt on my neck, I made the mistake of looking behind him and my eyes caught Natasha’s questioning glance from across the room. Oh, right. Freshman year, she’d dragged me to a party where I refused to do shots with a cute guy. She thought I was crazy, but little did she know that I didn’t want to do shots with  _him_  because I was halfway in love with  _her_.

          And here I was, doing  _body_  shots with the guy I was sleeping with so we both could get over  _her_.

          It wasn’t exactly something I could ever explain to her, so I just rolled my eyes again and hoped my blush couldn’t be seen from across the room.

          “Ready, doll?”

          Going from Nat’s eyes across the room to a front row seat of Bucky’s bright blue eyes right in front of me was like a punch to the gut, because a sudden wave of realization buried me.

          I was one hundred percent, completely, utterly, and without a doubt over my crush on Nat.

          And I was one hundred percent, completely, utterly, and without a doubt falling hard for my fuck buddy, Bucky Barnes.

          Shit.

          That just meant that I needed to get drunk ASAP because there was no way in  _hell_  that I was going to deal with that emotional shit tonight.

          “Here’s the wager, Barnes…” At my intent to raise the stakes, his eyes lit up and my stomach actually flipped. Like, honest-to-god flipped like a freaking acrobat or something. What a horrible time for these emotional realizations. “I made it to seven shots last time before I had to stop, right?”

          “Lightweight.”

          “If I make it to ten shots before midnight tonight, you have to…” What? What should I bet? I just wanted a reason to get shit-faced without drawing any concern or unwanted questions.

          “When you pass out at eight,” he said, jumping right in before I could come up with my side of the bet. “You have to stay with me for three weeks.”

          “Here? Why?”

          “I have to see Steve and Nat in their disgusting honeymoon phase, so it’s only fair that you suffer through that too.”

          “I’m over her,” I said, pretty sure I’d mentioned that early that morning. “It wouldn’t be torture for me like it is for you.”

          His mouth just quirked up. “It’s not torture for me either, doll. But have you ever lived with two people who literally cannot keep their hands off of each other for longer than three minutes? It’s like living in a porno. Don’t get me wrong, porn has its perks. But 24/7?”

          And suddenly I knew what my condition was going to be. “Fine. I don’t make it to ten shots? I move into the live action porn house for a few weeks. But when I  _do_  make it to ten, you can’t come for two whole weeks. Not when you’re with me, not when you’re alone… Your dick can get whatever it wants, but you just can’t finish.”

          “You’re not gonna make it to ten,” he said confidently, making me even more determined.

          “Let’s bet on it.”

          I was expecting a handshake, but he handed me a lime instead. Curious at why he was forgoing the usual handshake on a wager, I went along with it and raised the lime to my mouth. He grinned, reaching for one of the shots. “Let’s seal this sucker with a kiss, shall we?”

          Within the next two seconds, he’s licked the salt from my neck, downed the tequila, and then his lips were hard on mine, one of his hands firmly gripping the back of my neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who’s gonna win this bet? Me? Bucky? And who knows what the fuck Drunk!Y/N is gonna be saying. While we wait for the next chapter, let me know what you think!!


	3. If The Goal Was To Get Drunk, Did I Really Lose?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really needed to stop making bets with Bucky…

          “So, you and Barnes, huh?” Nat asked as she sat down on the floor next to me.

          Yeah, it was only eleven o’ clock and I was already on the floor. I’d already had eight shots, so it wasn’t a surprise. Two more and I would win. But I was so much more drunk than I’d ever been and— _no!_  Those were loser thoughts! I was drunk, yes, but dammit! I was going to win this damn wager!

          “Nah,” I answered. “Not really. No.”

          And all it took was her infuriating, advanced interrogation tactic eyebrow raise to get me to talk some more. That damn eyebrow made everyone spill their guts.

          And drunk me was susceptible as fuck. “We’re not  _together_  together.”

          As far as she knew, we were just pals who hung out at parties every once in a while. But she was too damn smart. “Do you wanna change that?”

          “Have you  _seen_  Bucky? Just fucking look at ‘im.”

          We both looked over to where he was playing pool with Steve. He was lining up a shot, eyes laser-focused as he leaned over the table. And fuck, the way his tongue toyed with his bottom lip? I’d been keeping a very close eye on his ass whenever he leaned over the table facing away from me.

          That damn body. I let my head loll over to grin at Natasha again. “And he’s a  _damn_  fine kisser too. Boy’s got moves.”

          “You do too, you little minx. I saw your challenge face just before Barnes took that first shot tonight. You made a bet with him.”

          “I did.”

          “What was it about?”

          Even drunk as I was, I still had enough sense to keep your mouth shut. Well, mostly. “I bet him I could get to ten shots ‘fore midnight.”

          “You better have not have much riding on that because you are so fucking drunk, my friend.”

          “I’m at eight now. I can handle two more. Totally fucking can.”

          “What happens if you lose?”

          I couldn’t help my eyes wandering over to him again. He glanced up, tossing a quick wink my way before making his shot. From my vantage point on the floor, I couldn’t see any of the balls, but Steve groaned and dug out his wallet to slap some cash in Bucky’s outstretched hand. He must’ve sunk the eight ball.

          “Y/N?” Nat prodded.

          “What?”

          “If you lose…?”

          “Nothin’ bad.” I mean, I already found myself waking up next to Bucky at least twice a week lately anyway. I could definitely put up with Nat and Steve and their disgusting in-love-ness if it meant sleeping next to Bucky every night. The reminder let loose another giggle and I fell onto Nat’s shoulder. “Fucking live action porn house.”

          “What?”

          “Hey doll,” Bucky saved the day by sitting on my other side. “How’re you holding up?”

          Just like a magnet, I found myself pushing off of Nat’s shoulder in favor of curling up under Bucky’s arm. “Fucking fantastic. I’m gonna fucking win.”

          “Is that fucking so?”

          “You bet your fucking ass it is.”

          “Eight-shot Y/N can’t say a sentence without  _fuck_  in it. Good to know,” he mused. “C’mon, doll. Let’s get some water in you.”

          “No. I need another fucking shot. I only got an hour.”

          It was a good thing Bucky was so fucking built because I was of  _no_ help in walking to the kitchen. He was practically carrying me, and even then I managed to nearly trip half a dozen times.

          “Water first. Then another shot.”

          “Don’t fucking sabotage me, dickwad.”

          Nat’s laughter sounded from behind us and I watched in amazement as three Natasha’s pushed past and grabbed three glasses. Then… wait. The sink faucet hadn’t always had three spouts, had it? “I gotta agree with Barnes here, Y/N. You definitely need some water.”

          “I’ll drink water after midnight.”

          I was only vaguely aware of a pressure on my hips before I was suddenly taller. Oh. I was sitting on the counter and Bucky was between my knees, holding a glass of water with a straw in it. “Drink.”

          I squinted at the blurred glass. “Is there vodka in there?”

          “Sure. Drink.”

          “Fucking liar,” I muttered before taking a drink. I wasn’t  _that_  drunk. As I sipped the water, though, the world seemed to get darker and darker and—oh. I opened my eyes, but the effort it took was so much more than it should have. “Did you fucking roofie this? I can’t keep my eyes open.”

          He just laughed and rubbed his hands along my thighs. “You’re just drunk, Y/N. You’re going to fall asleep before you make it to ten shots.”

          “No I’m fucking not.”

          He was right, though. But I couldn’t let him know that I knew that. I couldn’t give up that easily. My body, however, hadn’t gotten that memo. My neck wasn’t holding my head up and I had no idea where the glass of water had gone, but it wasn’t in my hand because I couldn’t find the strength to hold it up any longer. My body was shutting down, preparing to go to sleep and work through the alcohol coursing through my system.

          Something poked at my lips and my nose scrunched up in distaste as I tried to twist my head away.

          “It’s the straw, Y/N. Finish the water, then I’ll take you to my room so you can go to sleep.”

          “It’s not midnight yet. I c’still win.”

          “Sure you can. Drink.”

          It probably took at least two years to finish the glass of water. By the time it was empty, I was nearly asleep and only vaguely aware that Bucky had me in his arms, cradling me to his chest as he maneuvered through the house until we were in the back of the house where it was quieter. Then I was surrounded by his smell and I immediately burrowed further into it, sighing in appreciation when he pulled the covers of what was probably his bed over me.

          The last thing I remembered before being tugged into the undercurrent of unconsciousness were soft, dry lips on my forehead and his soft whisper of, “Night, doll.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so maybe I lost the bet. 2nd bet I lost with him in the same day, but let’s not mention that. Whatever. Besides, moving in with Bucky for a few weeks? What’s the worst that could happen? It’s all gonna be rainbows and sparkles, right? Let me know what you think!!


	4. The Morning After I Lost The Bet That I Also Won (by Fall Out Boy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I think the title kinda summarizes this short little chapter

          “It’s not like that, I swear,” Bucky’s softly harsh whisper slowly urged me out of sleep.

          Another voice sounded from further away… was that Nat? “She lost the bet, so she has to move in for a few weeks? You have to know what this looks like. I like you, Barnes, but if you hurt or corrupt her, I  _will_  kill you.”

          “Noted.”

          “And keep telling yourself whatever you want. But you wanted her here and there’s a reason for that. It’ll be easier on both of you if you just own up to it now.”

          “She knows the reason,” he whispered back, and his body shifted slightly under my head. “And she’s waking up, so you should probably leave.”

          “She’s not waking up. I was her roommate for a year. I know what she’s like when she’s waking up. You just want me gone.”

          There was a short huff of air that brushed at the top of my head, like a single laugh. By now, I was mostly fully awake, but I hated waking up when someone else was in the room, expecting me to wake up. So I obviously couldn’t let Nat in on the secret.

          Bucky, however… Sure, Nat was my roommate for a year, but Bucky slept in my bed one hundred percent more than she ever had. I couldn’t hide from him.

          “You got me. Get outta here. Go back to distracting Steve from whatever video game he’s playing today.”

          The door closed softly and I finally allowed a grin onto my face. “She doesn’t know  _shit_  about my morning routine anymore.”

          Bucky laughed, tightening his arms around me more and a soft noise of contentment vibrated from my throat. “How’s the hangover?”

          “I haven’t moved yet, so I don’t know.”

          “But you’re not rushing to the bathroom either.”

          “Haven’t opened my eyes. Those damn lights are gonna make me feel it. I just know it.” It was still uncertain if I could even open my eyes. It felt like my eyelashes had turned into weights, making it impossible. Not that I really cared. This was the first time I’d been in Bucky’s bed, since we always ended up at my apartment due to my lack of roommates. Not that I complained about that, but…  “’Sides, your bed is super comfortable.”

          “Glad you like it. You’re gonna be here for the next three weeks.”

          The reminder made me groan. I’d lost the bet. I didn’t care about the consequences, but losing anything frustrated me beyond measure. I suppose you could call me a little competitive. “Why did I think I could do ten shots in less than four hours?”

          “Maybe you lost on purpose. Can’t get enough of me, doll?”

          “Fuck off.” However, instead of pushing him away as the words would suggest, I burrowed further into his side.

          “Speaking of you moving in, I have a rule I think we should have.”

          “A sexy kind of rule or a boring kind of rule?”

          “The kind of rule to make sure we don’t end up hating each other.”

          “Great. I like it already.”

          “Look at me. You gotta open your eyes.”

          “Great. I hate it already.” He was patient enough to wait for me to pry my eyelids open and twist around just enough that my arms were propped up on his chest and I could look into his face. Surprisingly, my body didn’t decide that I needed to throw up with the movement. That was a good sign. “Okay. What’s the rule?”

          “If either of us need space, we just let the other know. No harm done. No offense taken.”

          It was a good rule. Putting it out there right up front. Acknowledging that a few weeks of living together wasn’t going to be all roses and rainbows. I absent-mindedly nodded my head while I mulled the rule over in my head.

          While I thought that through, one of his hands snuck under my shirt to rub circles on my back. “I know that you like your space, and you haven’t lived with anyone since Nat.”

          “And I wasn’t sleeping in her bed then,” I agreed. “It’s a good rule. I have a rule too, though.” At his expectant look, I let a grin slip onto my lips. “When I’m hungover,  _you_  make the coffee.”

          I swear, his laugh could cure my hangover. The next three weeks were going to be  _hell_ , trying to keep my newfound emotions in check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can totally make it three weeks without letting my emotions ruin everything, right?


End file.
